


Girl Guy Bi

by Yu4ic



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, Female Protagonist, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Multi, One Shot, POV Bisexual Character, Prom, School Dances, Short One Shot, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yu4ic/pseuds/Yu4ic
Summary: It’s Prom night, and Stephanie brought two roses: one for her dreamy best friend Martin, and the other for her gorgeous study buddy Jasmine. Two roses, two crushes. But what if the boy of her dreams and the girl of her dreams already had a thing for one another?The dance is ending.With time running out, Stephanie has hours left to sort herself out and make something happen.





	Girl Guy Bi

Despite the confidence of a navy blue dress, I was a nervous wreck. I knew exactly what to say― I’d rehearsed all the words in my head three times― but I knew I could still bunk it up.

    “Hey, it’s me again.” I tapped the counter and waited.

    The guy running the coat check-in raised an eyebrow at me.

    “The girl that brought two roses?” I tried to jog his memory, “In a box?”

    Check-In Guy shot a blank stare at me long enough for me to reflect:  _ Did I mess that up? _

    “Right.” he slapped the desk. He peered below the counter, brought my rose box up with him, “Here.”

    “Thanks.” I pulled the roses out and slid the box back to him.

    “No worries. Enjoy the dance.”

    “You too.” I said to the guy who would spend the rest of his night behind that counter. Damn it.

    I evacuated the scene with my roses before Check-In Guy could call me on it.  I let out a sigh only partially relieved. Next up was the hard part.

    Brushing my fingers against the rose stems, I stubbornly felt for any thorns just in case I missed any the night before. I was so focused on my fingers that I nearly bumped into Martin. It was a miracle I hadn’t collided with anyone else.

_ Martin _ . How lucky I was to call him my best friend. Girls all around me were pretending not to notice his presence, but I knew from experience that most of them would have flayed me just to stand in my shoes. My flat, black, dress shoes. Other girls needed heels just to have a shot at reaching my natural lankiness. 

    Martin cleaned up particularly well in a suit. Take a curly haired, peach fuzz, Spanish boy with a subtle Spanish accent to match, then stick him into typical black tie attire, and you’ve got yourself a “Martin: Prom Edition”.

    “Are these for me?” Martin smelled the roses.

    “One of them.” I handed him his and hid the other behind my back, screaming at myself, “For being awesome and letting me hang out with you all the time. And for being the world’s best personal chauffeur.”

    “You still owe me like fifty rides when you get your license.” he flashed a smile as he tucked the rose into his inner suit pocket, “Who’s that other one for?”

    “This one?” I flashed the second rose, “For me. You know, so we could both have one?”

    “Ah.” he bought it.

    We brewed a silence awkward enough to win a regional title in awkward silences. Something about all the other girls breathing down my neck from across the room and something about the fact that Martin and I were technically just friends made for an odd mixture of thoughts. 

    “I’m gonna get a drink.” I queued myself out.

    “That sounds like a really good idea right now.” Martin said, much to my disdain. Some ethereal being must have sensed my anguish because Martin’s favorite dance song started to play. “Actually…”

    He never finished his sentence. I watched as Martin slipped away towards the dance hall, then I made an escape of my own. Not anywhere specific, just  _ away _ , away from anyone who thought I was unworthy of Martin’s attention. As I fled, I studied my second rose again. It absolutely had to be perfect. The petals were fine, the stems were fine, everything was fine. Except for me.

    I had no qualms over pushing off history packet readings or my art homework, but did I have to put off  _ this  _ rose? I had weeks to do it until those weeks became days. Pacing through the lobby of the Prom venue, I realized I only had hours left. If I didn’t do something quick, hours would turn to minutes. 

    At least with Martin’s rose it made sense to hold off until Prom― he did drive me there, after all― but the longer I held the second rose, the more certain I was that I was and have been making a mistake.

_ People would’ve talked _ , I rationalized as I checked the grass scene outside. The number of people that knew that I was bi was coincidentally the same number of people that I’ve dated: zero. I hadn’t even told Martin, and after seven years he was still as clueless as ever. Imagine the uproar if I, Stephanie, the girl who got to hang out with  _ The Martin _ whenever she wanted to, fessed up her feelings to Jasmine, the spirit animal of Technical Arts Academy, in front of all of her friends. The whole study group. It couldn’t be helped. Jasmine was the kind of person that was friends with the entire grade.  _ Somebody would’ve talked _ .

    At least at Prom, there’d be no one to…  _ Oh crap _ .

    If I could have hacked out the lump in my throat, I could have given someone a real nasty concussion. The lump couldn’t decide if it wanted to go down from whence it came or up and out and all over the floor. 

    Jasmine stood by the snack bar with an aura of elegance. Her dress proved that its navy blue shade looked nicer on her olive skin than my pasty white. She had her dress fitted, and I was loving it.

    What I didn’t love, however, was how entrenched Martin was in his conversation with Jasmine. 

_ How the hell did he find her before I did? _

    I knew that face that Martin wore, and I resented it. It was the same face Martin wore on the first day of this school year. Jasmine’s first day at our school. The look Martin had on his face meant that he was lost, hopelessly trying to find the safety net of love in the eyes of the other, all through the facade of “just helping the new girl”.

    I was about to turn and leave when Jasmine did something I didn’t expect: she walked away from Martin and let her friend Georgia pull her away to the photo booth. The timing was too convenient; it had to have been orchestrated by one of the girls, if not both.

    I couldn’t tell who I should’ve been more mad about: Martin, for hitting on other girls with my rose tucked beneath his coat, or Jasmine, for sort of not really being into whatever Martin said?

    I nearly gave my head the good one-two that one would give to a lawnmower or car that wouldn’t start and kicked my brain into high gear. I headed towards the photo booth. 

    “Stephanie? Stephanie!” my heart melted at how happy Jasmine was to see me. She hugged me and I did my best not to freak out, “We’ve been looking for you!”

    “You have?” I found that hard to believe, but the weariness in Georgia’s eyes behind Jasmine said it all. 

    “We need to take a group photo of our whole study group tonight.”

    With me standing there beside Jasmine and Georgia, that made for three out of the six in our study group. 

    “Definitely! You two look great, by the way.” I said to them.

    “Shut, up, that blue looks better on you.” Jasmine must have been kidding. 

    Georgia eyed the rose in my hand, then asked “So who’s your date?”

    Something important inside of me died. I found the lump in my throat again, “You’re funny.”

    “Don’t worry, I don’t have a date, either.” Jasmine threw in.

    Georgia was giving the rose a full on visual pat down when she piped up, “If you don’t have a date, then-”

    “Anyways, Jasmine,” I cut off Georgia and held out the second rose, “If you want to dance later, I’m down whenever you are.”

    “What?” Jasmine’s brashness made me whither worse than a rose would. She hadn’t so much as glanced down at the rose.

    “If you wanna dance sometime,” I tried to avoid suffocating on my words, “that would be cool.”

    Puzzlement rippled into a deviant smile on Georgia’s face once she put the pieces together. She kept alternating between looking at the rose, back up at me, then at Jasmine like the world’s most infuriating grandfather clock. Georgia was tauntingly expectant. 

    “Oh, you wanna dance?” Jasmine said over the music that was gradually starting to bleed through the walls, “Sure. I was just gonna take some pictures with Georgia ‘til the others got here. Wanna join?”

    I kept the rose to my side and out of Jasmine’s sight, “I would, but I think I could really use a drink right now.”

    Even though the snack tables were right next to the photo booth behind them, I turned back the way I came. I didn’t want to see or hear what Georgia had to say. 

    I shot my shot and got shot.

_ You tried _ , I consoled myself. That’s all you can ask of a gal, ain’t it?

    Dread started to set in as I pictured every one of Jasmine’s study meets after Prom night. Had I just earned myself a one way ticket out of the one place I felt tolerated? Cast away by the only people that I could stand to be around?

_ How much did my feelings just cost me? _

    Check-In Guy didn't need any explanation. The rose I had in my heart-wrung hands spoke volumes. I showed up, he provided the box, I packed it up, he bid adieu, and that was all. Second rose stashed, no questions asked.

    Finding Martin on the dance floor was no problem at all. All I had to do was find the center of the dance blob.

    “Hey, get in here!” Martin waved me over. I had to read his lips.

    “I’m good right here.” I mouthed back. I had no intentions of working my way into the heart of the gelatinous grind fest.

    Squeezing his way past countless others, Martin made his way towards me. He got caught between two bodies like a pair of human scissors. I couldn’t hold back a snicker. At last, Martin found a spot for himself in the space beside me and instantly swung himself back into the rhythm. Meanwhile, I was still trying to figure out what to do with my feet. I rocked from side to side and let my arms do whatever felt right. I tried to ignore how much I felt like a hen in a shark tank; I didn’t belong there. It was becoming easier and easier to sense how out of tune my dancing felt amongst the others.

    With a seamless transition, the DJ snaked in the first slow song of the night through the speakers. Fingers and elbows jammed into my back and sides as people flowed all around me, either looking for one another or for a way out. I vibed with the latter group. In looking for an opening in the crowd, my gaze met Martin’s. 

    For the first time in the years we had been friends, I couldn’t read Martin.

    “Do you wanna try?” the great Martin said with a level of uncertainty I’d never heard escape his lips until then. He offered his hand out to me.

    I took his hand knowing full well it was Jasmine’s hand he wanted over  mine. That could be forgiven. The yearning for Jasmine was mutual whether he knew it or not.

    Using the couples around us as a guide, my hands found their way behind his neck while his rested upon my hips. We swayed together to the gentle melody, swirling around each other like a baby crib mobile. I looked down at him― I was a clean three inches taller― and smiled at the height difference. Martin looked vulnerable.

    My smile faded. Other girls would’ve put a bounty on my head if it meant it could have been them in Martin’s arms instead of me, so why couldn’t I share their passion?  _ Was this as good as it gets? _

    Martin sensed the tension in the air between us. I felt his hold on my hips soften. He looked down at his own feet as if that would help save the dance.

    I dropped my hands completely and straightened out my dress, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

    He bit his lip and tried to play it confident, “Same.”

    There weren’t that many people on the dance floor by then. Weaving my way out of the coupled horde was no trouble.

    “What do you wanna do now?” Martin caught up with me, his voice stupid with hope.

    “I don’t know.” I answered truthfully. 

    A rush of chilling air hit me as we stepped off of the dance floor. I felt a cold hand clasp around my wrist.

    “Hey!” I looked up at Martin, but it wasn’t Martin that was tugging my arm. I was being pulled  _ away _ from him.

    “Hurry up, Steph,” Jasmine dragged me along, “the photographer said she closes up shop in twelve minutes!”

    “Oh.” all the tension in my face began to ooze away.

    The other four members of our study group waved Jasmine and I down like runway techs trying to guide us home. There was only one couple ahead of our group in the line. Then, we were next. 

    “We should do sunglasses props first.” Jasmine rifled through the props the photographer had laid out on the table beside the camera.

    Hands reached past and around mine as our group made their picks. 

    “Try these ones.” Georgia handed me two prop sticks.

    The first prop stick had a pink pair of sunglasses with a pink mustache dangling from the frames. The second was a speech bubble and arrow that read “I’m with handsome” in big, cheery lettering. Georgia was pretending to paw through the props, but the mile-wide smile on her face confirmed my suspicions. 

    “Cute.” Jasmine commented when she saw my props.

    “Ready when you are.” the camera attendant motioned us forward.

    Being one of the tallest in the study group, I migrated to the back corner of the lineup. The photographer motioned for us to scoot closer together. I felt a hand around my waist. Jasmine pulled me into a side hug so tight I had trouble lifting my prop shades to my face. 

    A lovely scent was wafting in the air, and it wasn’t until the transition between shots did I realize that it was perfume. It was coming from Jasmine’s wrist and her neck.

    “You guys are lucky.” the photographer pulled the photos from the printer, “You’re my last of the night.”

    “Thank you!” Jasmine took the photo batch and dished them out to the group.

    I looked happy in the photos, complete with a stupid grin. Funny. Aside from the captured moments in my hands, I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have to force a smile. 

    “We should probably leave soon.” Jasmine examined the moonlight through a window.

    “What? So soon?” I concealed the hurt. There was an hour until the dance officially ended.

    “Martin didn’t tell you? We’re gonna go stargazing; I thought he would’ve told you.”

    “We’re leaving now?” Martin appeared as if summoned.

    “David and Athena are already there,” Georgia continued to list off names I didn’t know as our pack of seven headed out into the parking lot, “Everyone else is on their way.”

    Jasmine’s seven-seater was a black beauty. I waited politely amongst the others as Jasmine slid into the driver seat, but her hand hovered over the unlock button.

    “Oh.” was all she said.

    “Oh? What does ‘oh’ mean?” Georgia read Jasmine.

    “If I drive us out to the spot, I won’t have enough gas to get any of us home.”

    “Isn’t there a gas station nearby?” I offered. I needed more time.

    “At this hour? That’s a death wish.” Jasmine shut her door and locked it.

    “Martin’s got a four-seater.” I blurted, “You and Georgia could ride with us.”

    “I can fit four.” one of the girls in the back offered. 

    “Okay.” Jasmine was whelmed. 

    “Okay.” Martin shrugged. 

    Martin led us over to his car as the rest of our study group broke off into a different route through the lot. Invigorated, I watched Georgia from the corner of my eye, waiting for her to say something. She didn’t. She hopped into the shotgun seat before I did, booting me to the backseat with Jasmine. As I buckled in, the wave of her perfume hit me again. God, she was intoxicating. She smelled better than-

    “Wait!” I unbuckled my seatbelt, “I forgot something! Give me like three minutes, okay?”

    I hopped out of Martin’s car before he could answer and went into a full sprint back to the entrance. I raced past leaving couples of all kinds; gigglies, the downcast, and the hopeful. I hoped that I had enough time. 

    “Heyo, you know the deal.” I  only caught my breath after reaching the Check-In Guy’s counter. He slid the box to me, “Thanks!”

    I shifted from a run to a hustled walk back to the car in the interest of the second rose’s safety. I made sure it was still in there, and that was a good enough analysis for the time being. 

    “Can you get the…?” I started to ask until Martin popped open the trunk.

    I set the box underneath the picnic blanket in his otherwise bare trunk.  Once we got out of the gravel parking lot, I hoped it’d be smooth sailing for the rest of the ride.

    “Ready.” I buckled myself after the car started moving.

    Jasmine watched as I tried to tidy my frazzled hair. We both laughed when I gave up, but nothing more. The pleasantness of the moment passed, stale tensions rushed in. A car full of friends, silent. Something other than Jasmine’s perfume was lingering in the air.

_ Why didn’t Martin tell me? _ I pondered as I looked out at the stars. He would have had to eventually; he was my ride home. He had the picnic blanket in the trunk, so it’s not like he forgot. I looked at Jasmine’s reflection in the window by my side,  _ Did she even want to invite me? _

    Part of me knew Martin was sneaking glances up at Jasmine through his rearview mirror, but I had to know for sure. My eyes caught him in the act, and I held his gaze there, daring him to say something.  _ How dare he _ . Martin kept his eyes on the road after that. 

    A buzzing sound filled the car. It was ignored at first, but after a couple repeats, Martin’s vibrating ringtone became impossible to ignore.

    “Can you get that for me?” Martin asked Georgia.

    “Yeah, sure.” I could hear the eyeroll in Georgia’s voice, “Hello? No, he’s driving.” she offered the phone back to Martin, “Only for you.”

    “Seriously?” Martin pulled off to the side of the road and took the phone off Georgia’s hands. All four door locks shot up. Martin slipped out the driver side and slammed the door behind him.

    Jasmine, Georgia and I amusedly watched his antics using his front windshield as our TV screen. He was kinda cute when he was angry.

    “So, what’s the deal with you and Martin?” Jasmine prodded one of my fingers.

    Georgia whipped around her shotgun seat and waited for my answer. She didn’t seem devilish; genuine curiosity creased across her eyebrows. 

    “We’re just friends. I can’t stand anything more.” I was only half-lying.

    Jasmine playfully pretended to retch, “I don’t blame you.”

    “What? Why?” I exclaimed. Georgia was just as surprised as I was. 

    “I mean, you saw him, right?” Jasmine looked at me woefully, “He was coming on  _ so, so _ heavy. Guy really can’t take a hint.”

_ Tell me about it _ . 

    Then, Jasmine smirked at me. Martin got back into the car and Georgia had already turned away, but what the hell was that smirk supposed to mean? I avoided it and glanced back out the window, trying to pick it apart but getting nowhere. There’s no way it meant what it could’ve meant. Not for me. 

    “We’re here.” Martin’s voice snapped me out of my trance. The motion sickness in my gut suggested that I’d blanked out for a while. 

    Dozens of other teens our age were set up and on blankets, already admiring the sky. It was crazy how much of the night sky was visible once you got away from the city lights. Martin popped open his trunk.

    “I’ve got it.” I got up before him. I pulled out his bundled up picnic blanket and felt the lid of the rose box. The rose was still in there. 

    “Our blanket’s in the other car.” Jasmine said to Martin and I, “Thanks for the ride!” 

    I popped my head around the lid of the trunk. I was too late. Jasmine and Georgia had already started off towards the rest of the study group. We’d parked next to the car they had arrived in, but their blanket was a dozen car lengths deep into the field, almost dead center among the other blankets. Martin set up ours in the grass patch directly in front of his car, and we sat beside each other. He put an arm around me as the clouds rolled by.

    Jasmine’s words tumbled around in my head. Why didn’t she like Martin? Why didn’t I like Martin? I got what I had wanted most for the better part of my high school career, yet I was still unhappy. Or at least, I wasn’t as happy as I could have been.

    “Excuse me.” I shrugged Martin’s arm off of my shoulder and dusted myself off.

    He didn’t protest as I noisily reached into his car and popped the trunk open. I quickly found my box and turned it over a couple of times in my hands, carefully examining the rose inside. The second rose was still intact. 

    Just about everyone near us jumped when I slammed the trunk shut, but I didn’t give a damn. I walked down the grass hill feeling like I was walking off of the Earth. Heaven forbid if anyone tried to stop me then. 

    “Hey, Jasmine.” I got her to look over her shoulder at me. At last, she saw the rose in my hand as I asked, “Is it too late for a dance?”

    Jasmine’s smile was shy, but she looked relieved. She was happily taken aback.

    “No.” she was breathless, “It’s never too late for that.”

    Jasmine rose to her feet. With her navy blue dress on, she looked like a waterfall falling in reverse. She tidied her hair for me with her fingers, not that I cared too much about it. She was beautiful all the same. Jasmine took my hand in hers, warmly. She led me a ways away from the picnic blanket. We were isolated from the others. Within viewing distance is where we stayed, left basking in the heightening moonlight. 

    I looked down at my hands in Jasmine’s, unsure of where to put them. There was still an internal debate going on when Jasmine’s palms slid on mine and our fingers interlaced. In that moment, nothing else mattered. There was no moonlight. No crickets to remind us that we were at the mercy of the land. No Martin, and no Georgia to dissuade. No background music to distract us from us. All I knew was the gentle touch of Jasmine’s hands as we took turns twirling each other and catching the other, just like they did in the movies. 

    “This is nice.” Jasmine mused.

    “It’s…” I lost myself in her embrace.

    “Perfect?”

    I let my smile reassure her, “It’s exactly what I wanted.”


End file.
